Can We Control Fate?

Sometimes I feel like the world has it in for me. Then again, don't we all at some point?

Bit like how Nature does with abandoned human habitations

That is a perspective however. Same as all the things that happen to you, whether they are said, seen or felt. Those are other people's perspectives clashing with my perspective of their perspective.

Thing is, when you go through daily human interaction, there are numerous levels of intimacy that impact the perspectives being created on all sides in addition to the simple logica that there is honestly no other way to deal with thousands of people a day without herding them around a bit like sheep. No one has the time to actually get to know every single individual they run across, down to their intricate life stories, fears, hopes and dreams.

Even then, it's my belief that you can know a person for decades, and still, they will always surprise you.

So that brings be back around to perception. My perception of myself often reminds me I have no right, rhyme or reason to feel like the world has it in for me. After all I am sure that many of you reading this have dealt with worse things than I am. Like those which have prompted the amazing movement #WeNeedDiverseBooks. But none of who I am, regardless of perceptions, means I am stupid, incompetent, unworthy (insert negative adjective here), in terms of anything I think, do, or say. I'm just human.

We all are. Humans are often uninformed or unable to see over the nose blocking their rear-view windows. It goes for me, and probably you. After all, even if you are the most informed and enlightened individual, there is always something to learn and grow with, otherwise you may as well be dead. It's my belief, if we are not constantly observing ourselves and others, we aren't going to be learning at least one thing every day.



Learning is just another way to spell Life.

 


Either way, an individual's perspective of themselves and others all comes down to one thing.

Fate. The Three Sisters with their thread and looms, busily stringing together lives or snipping others apart. Randomly. Stories might give reasons for a grand hero getting blindsided by fate, but to me, that's just us humans trying to comfort ourselves in hours when we are faced with "but why me?!"

Thing is, most of life doesn't make sense and it isn't going to get better any time soon. Science doesn't explain everything, most of it is theory, religion doesn't validate squat if stuck next to science and fiction lets us play around with both to the extreme point of a messy child's sandbox.

Before I get you flaming with hatred, let me say that those three things, do however provide the most important thing we humans need in life:

Hope. 

They give us the powerful belief of hope that enables us to get past the feelings that "the world has it in for us," they help colour our personal perspective on life and of other humans around us.

They also allow us to put things in order. To make sense an endless circle of philosophical chaos. (Though hopefully not just tidy file folders that will get dusty in some closet in your mind. Do take them out and examine them once and a while). 

In short, whether you believe in science, religion, fiction or a combination of those three (or something else entirely), they are the one stop between us and jumping off the cliff of insanity because the sheer incomprehensible Size of the Universe was making our brains overheat.

So that brings me to ask, whatever your perspetive on life, or the perspective of others:

Does anyone deserve what happens to them? Good? Bad? Boring?

I'd say no.

No, because sometimes good things just happen, and bad things generally do too. More often then not, most of life is spent waiting, falling off into a daydream, or avoiding things entirely.

Is that bad? Nope. Sure, plenty of meditation and enlightenment experts will say it's the worst thing possible because the only way to live, is the moment.

So what I say in return is this:

As I said before, we are all human. Mistakes are supposed to happen. That's not learning otherwise. Just, no matter what you let yourself do, think or say, be aware of it. Take the thought, the action or words and hold them in your mind for a moment. Whether you catch it after the fact, or before, does not matter.

Just catch it. Observe it. Recognize whether it for what is was: something said in hate, did someone say something hateful to you and how did you react, was it an assumption and ultimately, who are you at heart, in this moment? Who are you going to be?

Now, let go.

You are controlling your fate.

Always learning something.
Moony.

The Value of Mundane Activities

I love to imagine all the things the moon sees through windows as it treks the night sky.

 
I always make it a habit to observe people and read their stories.

It makes the time pass, first of all, but even better, it gives me things to use in my writing and a chance to play around with conflicts, characters and dramas in my head.

I've done plenty of lining up, queuing (whatever you want to call it), over the years. Whether it's recently for the reams of paperwork required to get you a job in another country, for a geeky panel at a convention or just to buy the monthly bout of groceries, there is a lot of waiting to be done.

What I've come to learn through all of it has nothing to do with patience, though I will admit I probably have spagetti strings more of it than most people simply because I can occupy myself for hours picking apart people's stories.

What the lesson does have to do with anything, is realizing a great value lies within the mundane. Well, the publicly done mundane things (I have yet to understand the value in laundry or heavy cleaning. The most I get with homey mundane things is baking, because, well, it's a giant learning experiment when you use recipes as guidelines rather than rules. Chemistry is useful for something).

The value of the mundane is this:

If you look at life as a never ending sequence of observational periods and outcomes of experiential learning, or in other words, you look at life as a lesson planned by your universe, then even your grocery trips will never be dull.

There are a million things I've picked up about humanity from observing them during these mundane moments, but seeing as that could take a whole series of books to get through, (I've got notebooks full of odd things), I'll share just a few tidbits right here.

As you stand, waiting for your turn to present your problem, to buy some clothes, hand in a form, you are taught that human nature is full of errors.

It is impatient.

Lines are the best places to discover the rude sides to humans. They bring out the huffy growl of a suit, one ear on a phone conversation, the other on the airport employee warning of the plane's delay in landing, for the fourth time in six hours. They bring out the flowers and lace woman with fifty's style spectacles, who butts in the converged group in a police office (because apparently small towns don't do line ups), when the woman who was unanimously noted as next doesn't realize it was her turn because she was is busy sniffling and staring at the floor mumbling about how an officer had assaulted her the night before.

It is needy.

Lines always make people blab to strangers. I've come down to pinning it on a desire to rant, to compare or just to share because waiting allows for a lot of space for too much thinking, no matter if you're in the line or the one dealing with things at the end of it. That gets exhausting too. This blabbing lands on the grocery clerk in the form of a mother with a baby carrier on one arm, wielding her credit card in another and shouting at her other two children to stop running relay from the end of the check-out to the optometrist store on the opposite end. It comes out in an elderly secretary at the city hall who just dealt with a loud and grumpy couple debating a building permit as she sighs and asks what I'm there for and I land on the receiving end of a tale about her sweet and talented granddaughter who is currently teaching in Dubai, but had spent two years in the UK before that.

But sometimes it is kind.

Waiting for things often inspires a ridiculous amount of opening doors and phrases like "no you go first," "be my guest," or "would you mind watching my stuff?" These are always met with "thank you's" and "certainly's." Also smiles. Lots of smiles. And then no other exchange happens after. It's just too strangers continuing on. Yes, more often than not, this happens in the aftermath of the lines when you leave the buildings you were waiting in, get off the planes or what have you, but sometimes people band together when that same plane takes eight hours to show up before you can get on it, let alone getting off. The best come at conventions, where everyone is there for the same geeky reasons and everyone is waiting in the same long line ups. Which brings me to the next highlight of lines.

It can spark temporary companionship or long friendship.

It has generally only been by waiting at conventions that I've managed to discover people who are now long distance friends, there is plenty of temporary companionship to be had too. Like deep conversations about travel and business dreams bouncing between a ponytail and shorts girl and a young man in a suit jacket and jeans after the he asks if she'd mind watching his stuff while he pops off to grab a snack. They spend the whole eight hour wait for the plane chatting, negotiating seat switches with various people once the plane arrives, chat for the whole flight and they walk off together after landing. A deep discussion over the merits of coconut yogurt versus Greek yogurt gets volleyed back and forth between a dreadlocked university student and a guy still in a construction vest for the five minutes of a grocery line. They end, shaking hands and wishing the other a good day, going off to separate lives with their respective grocery bags.

I cannot say enough how fascinating watching people can be and how much you can learn from it. Plus, there are often times when you are just confused by it and you save the bits you pick up for later use or mulling over of.

I got on a bus once, most of the seats were full but nobody was having to stand yet and a scraggly bearded man with a toque and a box still covered in post stampage and tape kept muttering "nine-hundred and ninety nine stars. The sun is burning." Over and over and over. He sat there muttering this for the ten minutes I was on until he got off at his stop, walking as straight as anyone.

Other times I've been witness to hushed phone arguments between couples, or the excitable hand-waving of tourists from the top bus window who thought double deckers only existed in England.

The next time you are waiting for something. Watch the people around you. You might learn something about humanity, or yourself, or pick up a fun conversation starter, or writing prompt. You don't even have to wait to do so. Find a busy spot like a food court, a harbour, a tourist area, bus stops, ferry terminals, airports, parks, beaches or even wandering the streets and drink in it and all the people, with all your senses.

You might just be surprised with how fast the time flies.

Always observing from corners and high perches.
Moony.

Unpacking People's Perspectives

"A philosopher once asked, "Are we human because we gaze at the stars, or do we gaze at them because we are human?"

Pointless, really..."Do the stars gaze back?" Now that's a question." 
— Neil Gaiman (Stardust)

I love to imagine the sort of people statues like this one in Athens see on a daily basis.

Haven't done a quote of the week post in a long time so this is me getting back on that particular train after I stumbled across this gem, scrolling GoodReads between writing CV's the other day. 

Today's feature is another one of my favourite authors. Known for Stardust, Coraline, American Gods, Neverwhere, episodes of Doctor Who, among many other things. This is one of my favourite quotes because depending on how you read it or what you focus on, you could take it multiple different ways. Sometimes I take it to mean we should wonder, we should imagine. Today I took it as being aware of the perspectives of ourselves and others in the world.  

I'd don't have any piquant tale, nothing that deals with dark and cruel issues, from the world's and my own perspective I am a middle-class Caucasian Canadian female; in reality, I should have nothing to say in terms of bad perspectives, I have no right to say anything really. I'm one step down from the top of priviledge, which, if I had been male, would have been it.

Then again, I am writing this as me, authentic with my "curious way of viewing the world" as someone recently said to me. I couldn't tell you what is so curious about my perspective though, because it is my perspective. I can however recognize there are faults in my perspective, and at the least, that is a good start to always learning how to having a less judgemental one, whether the perspective is being turned on yourself, on others, or one which others turn on you.

I have two experiences which involve someone's perspective of me and how I took the words from my perspective. From your perspective you might feel they were completely deserved and I overeacted and that is your perspective and that's okay.

"You're too mousey. Fix it."

One of my managers said this to me a couple years ago. It hurt. Badly. It hit all the corners I knew were holding me back, all the corners which had always left me in shadows, forgotten, even by individuals I called friends. I know I am an Introvert (yeah, blog title a giveaway much?), I know I have a tendancy to be shy and it takes time before I'm comfortable with a person, especially when I am aware they are sonic-scanning my every move for some fault. Like not giving good eye-contact, apparently I visibly shake, rambling, mumbling and speaking in a breathy voice. I've been shot down all the time because of those first impressions that failed, even though I know, give me time to get comfortable, get me focused on something, so I forget I'm being stared at (like with piano performances or Irish dancing), and I'll be a fantastic at whatever you want me to be. Sadly, the business world doesn't have the time or patience to allow that and I live in fear because of that knowledge, when logically I know, they are just as human too.

After all, I look back on that experience now and I realize, she said it probably to help me. She was a blunt individual and working in the Wal-mart PhotoCentre as your main job is going to do that to anyone after a while anyway. Businesses don't have time or energy to be quiet and kind. She also might have just been having a bad day and I was a week into being new and wasn't "perfect" enough with a few of the processes. It happens.
 
What have employers said to you in your past that hurt? Why do you think they said it? How did you react? Have you let it go or is it still dragging you down? 

"Hahaha! Stupid elephant ears! You shouldn't wear it up."

Second day of high school, my hair in a French braid. I wore a pink collared shirt, practical beige shorts and Teva sandals. I look back on it now, mortified that I didn't have a better backbone to not just wear what I thought my mom would want me to, or that I didn't have enought of a perspective to know what I truly wanted to wear. Either way, I was thirteen, impressionable and still very, very shy.

That didn't go very well with the boy in science class who sat next to me and made the comment when he saw my hair (and ears). I later pegged him as a trouble student who was always mouthy to teachers, got suspended a lot, somehow graduated and I haven't a clue what he's doing today. Either way, he was my bain of existence for the first few years of high school, after which he got bored when I would just mumble a response back or ignore his shoving and pushing.

I know now he probably said that stuff because he was trying to make himself feel better for who knows what reasons. He might have done it because he thought he was funny. Most of the guys in high school tended to say rude or mean things, flat out ignore me or would gang up to pull my hair at my locker (yay for curls, not). I still haven't cracked their perspectives and don't know what prompted those words or actions, but I moved on. I ignored it and stuck it all into a box in my mind.

However, I never, ever did wear my hair up again in high school or around high school people. (Nor have I spoken to many since graduating). It took until about two years ago that I finally was confident to wear it up in public. I let someone else's words dictate me into a state of fear.

Fear. That is all perspective come down to. It might be your self-perspective, which is actually by far the harshest because it takes your own voice and the things you've learned and experienced in the outside world. Then it becomes internalized, running a marathon of self-hatred 24/7.

It might be the perspective of others on you, which comes out of their own internalizations of self-perspective and of their present emotions, because humans are quite fantastic at just blurting things without thinking of the ramifications first.

It might be your perspective of others, which could be skewed because you are not that individual person. I'll never know why that manager said what she said or why she was the way she was, let alone whatever went on in the head of that hormone-raging trouble boy (and his friends). Even my friends of the time. Though they are a huge anomaly of confusion and misunderstandings that will probably wait for another day to explore.

It has however kept me aware that I am a very shy individual who finds it hard to be comfortable around people until some time and acquaintance passes. Get to that point and I'm an intuitive and intelligent conversationalist. However I'm also abnormally sensitive to words, invasions of space, and especially jabs on my ability to perform exceptionally at whatever task I am set.

For now, I invite you to think back on things people have said to you, or how they've acted around you.

How have those words or actions impacted you?

Think about what they may have taught you about yourself and your own perspectives. Grow from these experiences. However small, however serious. Grow. Don't stop. Open your leaves to the sun and learn lots.

Always observing.
Moony. 

It's an Imaginary Life

I have never, ever seen a pine needles worth of "It's A Wonderful Life" and I have no desire to. My life is full of a million other things still to come, catching up requires certain requirements before I will do so. But, I do live in a particular society that prevents one from entirely and permanently stashing their head in the sand, thereby inflicting me with horrible pop music and "classic" movie titles like "It's A Wonderful Life."

Though, I will admit I almost want to see this sci-fi movie called "Twelve Monkeys," just because it got referenced in Cabin Pressure when the character's were playing a game of movie title sentences. One example was: "What's Eating Gilbert Grape? Twelve Monkeys." Haven't seen the first one mentioned either, but I go for sci-fi over most things and what sort of sci-fi movie is called "Twelve Monkeys?" I mean, nonsense! Utter nonsense!

The Omphalos. A bellybutton of the world. Nonsense? Creativity.

Then again, I have never seen "Snakes on a Plane" and that is about as weird as titles get, though I did see the Doctor Who knock-off called "Dinosaurs on a Spaceship" but again, that was Doctor Who and therefore it filled in the requirement of me knowing something about the genre or show that I would like. And I did. Mostly. It's hard not to like an episode of Doctor Who, well, that is, unless you start thinking too much and you get a headache or start getting irritated with the writer's adoration of epic storylines and cliffhangers. Me, I love a good epic and cliffhangers are so entertaining (I mean, look at BBC's Sherlock after the end of season 2 and all the theories of how he survived the fall. England went insane for the months following and the internet was insane for two years. More insane than usual).


Thing is, Twelve Monkey's is a sci-fi movie. Just that. Plain and simple and sometimes I need more than that to delve into someone else's world. Often I need to just watch it with someone else. That's how I pulled off getting through a few of the Oscar movies this year. Others, I get to gorge on my shallow human side which usually gets squashed into the basement of my Tower Library (mind), and things will be delved into because of a favourite writer like Neil Gaiman's rather contemplative almost lit fiction book "The Ocean at the End of the Lane" or hey look, my favourite actor happens to be in that film. And so on. I don't always adore the product because of those preconcieved conditions that made me pick them up in the first place and I often stumble into things out of boredom or adventurousness and end up down a track I never saw. Then again, 90% of the time the preconcieved conditions ring true and I come out the end with a warm belly of contentment. A bit like good food, pleasant company and mild sunshine. Or, like the first two minutes of a cat sitting on you. 

A lost shoe. Nonsense? Forgotton Childhood. Creativity.

Anyway, all that ramble about preconcieved conditions before trying new things came about because of comment, reply, comment a friend and I had on facebook.

He said: If you could escape this world and live in a world of your own making, what would you do, knowing that you forever forefit the world you do not choose?

I replied with: I don't see why there would be any forefit if you were living in a world of your own making. In a world of your own making it should be filled with your intention which thereby leaves no room for regrets. Seeing as this is the start of a deeper conversation I will leave what I would do for a lengthier area. Though, I will just say; I would, I will and shall always be, a storyteller.

He replied to this with: Some people are incapable of designing an imaginary life. Hence the need to forefit one or the other.

I was incredulous and finished the exchange with: Seriously?! Anyone incapable of designing an imaginary life needs to be put down. Dramatically. Now. Or maybe I should pull out my staff and knock their brains about a bit.  

Okay. So I was a bit dramatic myself, but if you have caught one or two of my posts you'll probably already recognize one part of my default setting sits on dramatic. I'm a writer. It's what we do best. That aside, his reply made me think about how I have met so many people, of all ages who say: I'm not creative. They panic when asked to imagine and say, "What!?" No! I can't! I have no imagination!"

I sigh out a breath and then take in a breath. Then I have one of two replies depending on the person. Either I say, "use your five senses. Imagine the tastes, smells, feeling and visuals of...*insert thing being imagined here*

If that fails, and it does, I'll get the person to find the theme that connects two very opposite things. Try it now. Just for fun. (For those who forgot high school English: a theme is the unifying idea or concept of a product, usually a book, but it works in life).


A spider. The sun. 

A toothpick. A potato.

Earbuds. Elephants. 

How was that? Easy? Tough? Fun? Annoying? Did you come up with more than one theme? Whatever the case, the best thing about creativity, which makes it the best and worst thing on the planet for a person's self-confidence, is that it is highly subjective (read: There. Is. No. Right. Answer). 


That is still a hard thing for me to be okay with. I was frozen in terror a couple weeks ago when I shared some of my sci-fi work with the local library's writer-in-residence; one, because most of the professional writers I've met in real life (read: university) were very snobbish about the place genre fiction did not have in the writing world Hall of Art. Two, because I haven't shared my work with anyone more than that friend who prompted this post and occasionally my mom and a class of bored Grade Nine students.


Yet I keep trekking with it because it is scary and because I am starting to realize it does not matter what people think of my work because all the people in the world will never, ever be happy with your work. I mean, take the Oscars for example, that is The Award for film creatives and yet it is equal parts subjective and bureaucratic. Yay for social images. On a small personal scale I can say I adore Neil Gaiman's "Neverwhere" but his recent "The Ocean at the End of the Lane" was good, but it was a chore (a short chore, of 200 some pages but a chore) to get through. It was sweet and if you are a storyteller in any form, it feels like home but I gravitate more to books that put me in the flow, the sort of books that I come out of, gulping air and realizing "oops, it's four hours later than I intended." A book a grabbed just because it was a steampunk fantasy called "A Conspiracy of Alchemists" by Liesel Schwarz is my latest flow book. 

Let the buds of your mind bloom.

Anyway, creativity. Imagination. Perhaps I am not the best to be writing about it, or being derisive about those who people "who are incapable of designing an imaginary life" but I honesty do find it hard to believe because you can imagine as much as you can eat. It can be as quantifiable or as nonesensical as you personally desire. Here's another good practice at creativity, especially for those who are iron-willed logical.


How many otters can you imagine? 

A nonsensical person like me would instantly reply with the dramatic word, "a million!"

But can you really imagine a million? Logically? No. Unless...

Put all those otters somewhere. Try, say, an aeroplane. Let's also take a smaller number, say, a hundred otters. 

Imagine one hundred otters in a 16 seat aeroplane. 

Now can you do it? Plot it logically. Stick the otters on seats, under seats, in overhead compartments, in the flight deck, the galley etc. 

So my caveat to those who say that cannot, or people who say certain individuals are incapable, I say no one is incapable. Sometimes all it takes is a little logic and even a nonsensical person like myself who can happily suspend a lot of logical belief in the face of many things (because I'll just fill the holes in myself with my own creative juices), might need some sense.  

So now you are creative! Awesome! Or at least its cooking. Takes time to cook a good soup. Now I want you to imagine a world of your own making. What would you do? Just know that whatever you chose for your world, you cannot unmake that choice. You will forfeit all else. 

You might be surprised by how simple your answer is. 

In my world. I would always be a storyteller. 

I do like to take things further. Writer's like details. 

My world would be a cottage, tiny house, tree house, cabin by water or by thick old forest, a place for my books, a piano and writing tools. Quill pen, 1940's typewriter, laptop, tablet, pencil and paper...

Isn't life actually, frightening simple?

Scary.

You're probably already living parts of it. All you need to make it your universe, might be to let go of the feelings of Right or Wrong. Be creative. Be an Imaginist. (Someone who connects things together to create something new, at least seven times a day). 

What's your imaginary life? 

Reminding Imaginary People,
Moony.